The Four Seasons of Vivaldi in London

That Little Girl

I was walking through town looking around. Every shop was decorated with Christmas decorations. Some were more festive than others and some you could see what little effort was put into them.

I slowly strolled around the town, my destination, the town market.

I watched the children play in the snow. It was December 18 and it had already snowed in this part of England. Some children's hands were red, most likely frozen from grabbing so much snow but all of them had red noses. Then there was a scream.

I quickly turned around to see if anyone was hurt. Instead, I find two groups of kids running towards each other.

"What are they doing?" I said to myself.

I noticed snowballs in their hands.

Oh, they're having a snowball fight, I thought.

I chuckled.

How did I not notice? I wondered.

I looked at them. And I notice one child on top of a snow fort standing up as if they could never be toppled over and their fort taken over. It reminded me of what Linus did once. If my memory serves me right, he built a snow fort and claimed no one could ever remove him from his fort but soon Lucy snuck up. Wait no she just walked towards him and threw a snowball at him. And that was how the almighty Linus was overthrown.

"Oh, that's right!" I quietly shouted at myself.

I started speed walking towards the market. I watched my footing because I didn't want to slip on some ice.

Once I arrived I started searching for him. He has to be here. He usually starts to pack up his things around his time. I scurried through the crowd of people. But after 30 minutes of searching, my efforts were futile.

Snoopy was not here. He usually is here to sell his family crops. That is one of the few things we know about him, he is a farmer. It is a bit weird to call him one of our closest friends yet we know almost nothing about him. But it did not matter who he was or where he came from when we were children. So I guess we just never asked in the end.

In my disappointment, I shuffle my way towards the lake. The lake was always so peaceful to me even if many people were there during this time of day. The only times of day the lake was basically empty were in the mornings, around when school starts, and late in the afternoon.

I watched as many people were skating. I wanted to join them on the ice but I did not have my skates. I walked around the edge of the lake. I watched the first-timers trying to learn how to skate without making a fool of themselves, a few girls were figure skating. Peaceful like always. But peace can't last forever.

"Ahhh! You BLOCKHEAD!"

That voice.

It couldn't be...

NO! IT JUST COULDN'T!

I turn as fast as I can towards where the shout came from almost snapping my neck. I just barely saw a girl with black hair chasing a tall man with brown hair and a blue scarf.

No, it's not her, that girl has hair too long for Lucy's liking. She always said she'd always have her hair short, her hair would never touch her shoulders she said.

Her dark black hair...

Lucy and that girl just have the same color hair, it wasn't Lucy. Remembering my childhood is just messing with my head. I am mixing up the past with the present.

After a few more minutes, I left. Though I know that girl wasn't Lucy, I just didn't want to see her. She looked too much like the type of lady I've imagined Lucy grew up to be.

I made my way back to the cottage.

A few hours after I returned to the cottage, Charlie Brown came back from I don't remember nor truly cared.

"Schroeder, I hope you are ready for tomorrow," Charlie Brown said.

"What is tomorrow again?" I pondered.

"Oh Schroeder, do you never pay attention?" he sighed.

"You know something, Charlie Brown," I began.

"What, Schroeder?" Charlie Brown looked at me with a defeated look. Even if he became more confident, some parts of Charlie Brown never changed.

"Sometimes when you start talking, my head starts playing Piano Sonata No. 14 in C-sharp minor Op. 27 No. 2 or as you may know it, Quasi una fantasia," I said to him with a smug face.

"If you want to be like that, Almighty Beethoven," he emphasized, "I guess I just won't tell you," he stated and then made his way back towards his room.

"Wait! Wait! Sorry! Sorry! Please tell me what's happening tomorrow!" I pleaded. I shouldn't have said that to Charlie Brown. I don't want to be left in the dark about what's happening tomorrow, I've always hated not knowing what's going to happen.

He stopped and turned around to face me. He looked at me with a cold stare.

"Are you done with your childish antics?" Charlie Brown inquired.

Though I was taken back by his rude comment I finally got a good look at him. He looked very tired. He did leave pretty early, he wasn't even here for breakfast. The maids had informed me that he left before the sunrise. He must be really tired, no, extremely tired since he most likely went to some social gathering. And now that he came back to the cottage, hoping to calm down and relax with a friend, to instead find me with an attitude.

"Yes, sorry once more," I responded, trying to hide my shame.

"Okay," Charlie Brown said.

"Come to the drawing room. I'll play the piano while you tell what's going to happen tomorrow," I wave at him to follow him.

After a few piano pieces, Charlie Brown seemed very relaxed and almost asleep. Like a child whose mother just sung a lullaby after a long day of playing.

"We are going to a party tomorrow. The first of many, the winter season has started," he barely whispered, "Tomorrow we have to start searching for a wife..."

"Okay," was the response I gave him but it did not matter if I responded or not because he had fallen asleep on the couch.

I quietly left the room and made it back to my room.

Everything started tomorrow. If it were every other year, I will do what I have been doing the last few years at the parties. Just scan the room for a possible spouse and if I saw nothing I did nothing. But it is not, this time I have to take it seriously, I have to start looking. I truly have to find a wife or at least start courting someone in order to not make my father mad. This time I have to search for someone who I think would make me happy because if I don't, my father would just arrange a marriage. He is really set on getting me married.

I laid down and immediately fell asleep. And in my dreams, once again I am playing, no I'm not playing. There is just piano music playing in the background while I am alone in a ballroom. Without a dance partner. I couldn't move and was forced to stare at the entrance of the ballroom as if I were waiting for someone.

Author's Note: Sorry it took me so long to update. School started which threw me off schedule and I hit a writer's block. I got out of the writer's block and finished the chapter but I am back in a writer's block. So the next update may take some time.

Let me know if you can guess what piece Schroder was talking about.

~Solecito